


Wishing to be the friction in your jeans

by Hieiandshino



Category: Avengers: Age of Ultron - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU in which Laura is Clint's sister, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Character Death Fix, Explicit Sexual Content, I can't stop, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 22:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3913258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hieiandshino/pseuds/Hieiandshino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>In the end, it was more like a date, finding bad guys for Pietro to train not using his powers, in New York, while presenting the man (</i>not kid anymore, not kid for a long time<i>) to a new city and to new food. And, because it was a date, Clint had to screw it. Really, it was mandatory. Like that time with Bobbi Morse, when he thought he had a chance and in the end he kind of introduced her to her husband. Like that time with Phil Coulson, when he broke the man’s replica of Captain America’s shield and their date turned into a trap and Agent May had to rescue them. Like Budapest.</i><br/>Oh, Budapest.<br/><i>Sorry, he’s distracted, sir. And stalling a little.</i><br/><i>Also, high on drugs.</i><br/><i>Yeah, he knows he is, sir.</i></p>
<p>(Unrevised work)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishing to be the friction in your jeans

**Author's Note:**

> _Avengers: Age of Ultron_ and Marvel (all media types) do not belong to me.
> 
> Title comes from the song "Sugar, We're Going Down", by The Fall Out Boy. Again.
> 
> This is an unrevised work, so I'm sorry for my mistakes.
> 
> Spoilers for _Avengers: Age of Ultron_. Based on the opening scene from _Brooklyn Nine Nine_ 's episode 20 (second season).

Everyone, at some level, thought it was funny. Ironic, even.

As if it was a general rule, Pietro Maximoff was given to Clint Barton to be trained _and something more_. They had seen the provocations from the very beginning, together with the slightest touch of competition to see the other on their back, attack after attack. They focused on each other and seemed to forget the rest of the world — Pietro was the one who started with a cocky remark after an attack and Clint just focused on a new target, pride hurt —, to the point Pietro slowed down his pace for sacrifice, as long as the child and Clint lived.

They read all these signs right.

They. The Avengers.

Clint went back immediately to his farm to check on his sister and help her take care of the baby that would come, but to also mourn the death of the man that he wanted so much to guide. That he wanted so much, period. Three weeks poorly slept later, Nat came to him with a smirk and Russian vodka and asked if he was ready to hear the news.

“Ready for what?” He asked, already sitting down and opening the bottle.

The words came out weird of her mouth. She felt it too. The smirk disappeared and the following words: “Wanda Maximoff revived her brother” came in the darkest of the tones and Clint knew, just knew, that she was scared of a girl in her mid-twenties that had too much power in her hands. Clint also knew that her power came too late, because they needed her for Coulson. It tasted bitter.

They drank and they drank and the other day they woke up still on the living room, pressed against each other in ways they haven’t done in years. Laura had put a blanket on them at some point of the night and Clint was glad he lived with his sister. The cries of a Nathaniel Pietro Barton, an honor that was now unnecessary because Pietro was _alive_ , awoke them both and they laughed a little, before Nat decided to check on Nate all by herself.

They stayed a week, making preparations and helping Laura to compensate for another of his goodbyes that would take months to turn into hello, I’m back. Cap wants me back, he said. I can manage the kid, he said. _I need to see it for myself_ , he thought and Laura got it anyway — they weren’t twins, but they were just as close. Family sticks together, after all ( _a promise they both made to Barney_ ).

He was a blur of silver and blue that matched his eyes. His hair was shorter, completely white, but the cocky grin was still there. “You didn’t see that coming?” Was the first thing he told Clint and all he wanted was to punch the kid and crush his lips on his until he lost all his breath again. Wanda watched him with her impossible stare, knowing everything he thought, every desire and every fear, and Clint knew just there that she was ready to fight him. Nobody would take her brother away from her again. Madness in the red that colored the blue.

The Avengers read their expressions — Pietro’s trust, Wanda’s rage, Clint’s infatuation, Natasha’s fear — and designed Pietro to Clint and Wanda to Natasha. Cap would have to deal with Sam and Rhodey and Vision all by himself, yes, but the twins needed a pair that understood themselves without talking shit. Cap would not take their ‘no’ well, so Nat and Clint didn’t even bother to ask.

It all built up to this.

Three months of training and flirting and spending the nights alone with their thoughts. Pietro circling Clint and Clint ready to aim. Physical confrontation that was more touches than fight. I am ready, Pietro said a thousand times and still Clint cut him and told him he would be ready when Clint wanted. The shiver and the smirk, young responses to Clint’s more mature innuendos. Wanda hated him so much, now more for the facts she knew what he wanted to do with her brother than the fear she would lose Pietro again.

Let’s go fight crime, Clint said, finally, and Pietro’s frown broke into a grin. Wanda huffed near him, crossing her arms like a child. Pietro spoke with her in his mother language — not Russian, though the Sokovian originated from there, definitely ( _common words and common structures, but like Canada French and French French, different languages and dialects_ ) — about something. Her answer had Nat’s name, and Clint understood without understanding. She wasn’t ready for the outside world yet.

Let’s go, Pietro said a second later, face close to Clint’s and for a moment Clint asked himself if this was still training or it was more a date.

In the end, it was more like a date, finding bad guys for Pietro to train not using his powers, in New York, while presenting the man ( _not kid anymore, not kid for a long time_ ) to a new city and to new food. And, because it was a date, Clint had to screw it. Really, it was mandatory. Like that time with Bobbi Morse, when he thought he had a chance and in the end he kind of introduced her to her husband. Like that time with Phil Coulson, when he broke the man’s replica of Captain America’s shield and their date turned into a trap and Agent May had to rescue them. Like Budapest.

_Oh, Budapest_.

Sorry, he’s distracted, sir. And stalling a little.

Also, high on drugs.

Yeah, he knows he is, sir.

After Pietro’s seventh ice cream cone, they finally found something worthwhile to do — after Wilson Fisk was arrested as a crime mastermind who was controlling almost all of Hell’s Kitchen, crime slowed down a little —: a guy that just stole a shop, right in front of them. Clint started to run and so did Pietro. Remember, don’t use your powers, he said. Pietro nodded, annoyed. Clint could see in every movement of muscle, every centimeter surpassed that Pietro’s body was screaming to go at his right pace ( _everything is so slow in his eyes and in his life when he was not running sometimes Clint thinks how he could have focused on him in all that almost unmoving world he is afraid (_ a little _) he will leave him behind one day_

_Just                 leave              without           saying             goodbye_ )

but he showed self-control and Clint was proud, _so proud_.

And then the man turned a street and was met with traffic in the sidewalks and traffic in the street. Clint though _this is it_ and Pietro was calling the man something in Sokovian that wasn’t nice _(not a bad word, though. He is too arrogant to use one._ Bad word. _Jesus,_ _Clint is so_ high. _Also he needs to stop interacting so much with children, it’s ruining his style. Yes, sir, he has style_ ), until the man turned to the cars and started jumping on their roofs to run away from them.

Stay here, Clint said. I can take him, Pietro answered. And Clint knew he could — Pietro could do whatever he wanted, when he wanted, nobody ever forced him, nobody had this strength —, but the play here was for him to not use his powers, to control it and to get around without them. Jumping cars up and down, from roof to roof, like an average person was something he was not used to it, while Clint did this more times he can count.

It’s an order, Clint said, then, and Pietro stopped, biting his lips, frustrated. The next one is yours, kid, Clint said, and winked at him.

There would be no next one that day, at least. Or forever, Clint is not sure yet. It’s not like he can feel anything but death slowly crawling towards him in his drugged state. Sir, is that death? Sir, do you have an update?

Right, the story.

Pietro ran through the sidewalks, trying to open his way through the masses of people around him and who stopped to watch and film the chase. Nobody knew who Pietro was yet, since what happened in Sokovia was so fast and so high nobody could really film or tell much what happened. Also, they did not have the time, because everyone had to evacuate. The Avengers saved the day, sure, but nobody knew who were the two new teammates yet.

Clint was distracted, watching every movement of the man in front of him, with his gun still in hand and so many people around. Clint was distracted with the fact he did not had his bow with him ( _too obvious and not the point of the exercise_ ) and that the man could easily start shooting. Clint was distracted with the fact he was out in the open instead of a rooftop and that Pietro was nearby and he went down the first time with a fire weapon strapped on the Avengers’ Quinjet — the one Clint himself normally used when doing operations with the team. Forty-seven bullets inside a twenty five year old man and there they were again, Clint facing danger and Pietro near, watching, hovering, waiting for another chance to self-sacrifice himself for a man he did not even know that much, even after all these months.

Regret tasted bitter in his tongue and Clint wanted ( _wants, still wants, forever will want to, sir. He feels like he is compromised and he doesn’t care, sir. Sorry, sir. You’re right; there is nothing to feel sorry for_ ) to understand how he could feel so much for someone he barely knew. He would, though, would know him the moment they caught that guy. Would take him to a hotel room and know him in all the ways they both wanted to. Everything was building up to this. The Avengers had read their conflicted emotions towards each other from the very beginning and let Hawkeye take aim of the target and release the arrow when he wanted. Clint guessed that, in the end this really was a date—

—He remembered Bobbi Morse meeting Lance Hunter thanks to him; he remembered getting Coulson kidnapped thanks to him; he remembered Budapest and Nat. All dates that ended up worse than when they started—

—It was a cursed word, it had to be. The moment he thought that, in the end, their trip to New York really was a _date_ , thought this word in particular, he had just jumped from a roof car and was landing on another’s—

—He was distracted by many things and just—

—Clint saw the world become taller around him, as if he was falling. He did not understand why he was falling when he was up on a car’s roof. He looked down; saw his reflection getting closer and closer. The pain in his pelvic as his two legs became too apart, as if it was ripping him in two, was as worse as the ones in his ribs, the ones that were still healing after one of his stunts with Wilson that ended up with him falling from a tree. Clint heard his nose make a sick crunch, a sound close to the one his wrists did when he tried in vain to break the fall. He felt dizzy and concussed and a little deaf after the scream that escaped from his mouth — an angry, almost humiliated, definitely painful scream.

Clint looked up and saw that the thief kept running. Saw flashes and flashes of cameras, blinding him from every direction. He blinked and a blue blur crashed against the man, who screamed surprised. _Open window roof_ , it was his only thought, the conclusion to why he fell, and then he passed out. Thankfully, it was before he noticed that all the pain he was feeling came less from the other injuries and more from his leg, still inside the car.

He was pretty sure Loki was laughing at him from Hell.

.

When he wakes up, Nick Fury is by his side. It feels almost like a déja vu, except he is not handcuffed to the bed. Nick is looking at some papers, maybe reading a book, when he looks up with his one eye and smiles, his teeth showing.

“Something’s wrong?” Clint asks, because though they know each other for a long time, Nick always liked Nat best and Clint— Clint had Coulson.

“How are you feeling?” Nick asks and Clint assesses his injuries. He feels almost nothing, except that his leg is itching and on a casket and that his mouth feels like he has eaten sand.

“Like shit, obviously. What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you.” Nick says, but there is this amusement on his voice that makes Clint fear for his life.

“Something wrong?”

“It was four hours ago.” Nick answers, finally. He closes whatever it is he has in his hands and then fully turns to Clint. “When I first came in.”

There is a small moment of silence, before Clint says: “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“I came to check on my idiotic archer, whom I personally went to invite him to work for me at S.H.I.E.L.D., took a fall on New York City while chasing some thug. By the way, it was last night. Dr. Cho kindly fixed your leg even though I said to her she should have left broken. They’ll take the casket after I leave.”

“Sir, I was—”

“—Training our speedster, I know.” Nick says and smiles again. “You told me.”

Clint frowns. “I… Told you.” He doesn’t remember saying anything to Nick about going to New York. He remembers telling both Maria and Cap, the latter wishing him good luck while the first smirked at him and told him he had already gotten lucky, he just had to play it right. Clint and Cap both decided to not comment on what she had implied.

Nick nods with his head and then gets up of his chair, walking around the room. Clint feels twelve years younger and handcuffed at a bed similar to this one. Coulson was blocking the door, that mysterious friendly smile in place. Last time, they offered him a job and protection for his sister, who ended up knowing some pretty bad people without Clint’s help. This time, Nick just says: “I came in to check on you, about four hours ago. You were asleep, high as a kite. Nothing wrong with that, until you woke up. I tried to call someone to check on you, but you just… Started talking.”

Oh no. _Oh_ _God no._ “Sir—” Clint starts, face blanching.

“—A date, Barton, really? And here I thought I had forbid you to do that after Budapest.” Nick Fury says, serious, but his one-eye sparkles with something and, shit, _shit_.

“I told you _everything_?”

Nick nods. “Some real poet you got in there, Barton. Though when the drugs started to get out of your system, you lost some of your eloquence, surprisingly.” He is smiling, that type of smile that means he will never forget this information or whatever else Clint told him the past four hours. Shit, Clint just remembers talking about Pietro, but it shouldn’t have taken this much of time. _Fuck_. “Your head work in mysterious ways.” It is the last thing Nick says, before he heads out of the door.

“Shit.” Clint says, like someone else would say goodbye.

He can hear Nick laughing on the hallway.

.

It takes two hours for Clint to move out of the infirmary.

His bedroom at the Avengers facility doesn’t have many belongings and it is a little cold, but it’s better than the infirmary. At least here he has some privacy to ignore the doctor’s orders without being yelled at and the acoustic is better, so the jokes they make at his expense are mostly blocked out by the walls.

So, this new team doesn’t even exist for six months and he is already the main joke. At least, on the original one, Steve was the one who was made fun of.

To be fair, most of the jokes come from Rhodey ( _okay, most jokes come from Tony because these two are like teenagers that never stop texting each other, to the point they can do it inside their own suits_ ) and Nat, because of course it would be her. The first time she comes to visit him when he awakes, together with Cap and after Rhodey ( _and Stark_ ), she can’t stop laughing. It’s Steve who has to tell him they told his sister and that Laura will bring her children to visit their uncle soon. It’s also Steve who gives him the drawings his nephew and niece drew to him and send by email, so that makes Clint want him to be the Nate’s Godfather. He is _nice_ to Clint.

Wanda and Vision visit together with Sam and they talk about different things. Vision asks what is like to be high, Sam asks why the hell Fury told him to tell Clint he still has a chance ( _Sam already knows, of course he knows, but he still like to do these things, play innocent and shit. My God, these guys are assholes_ ) and Wanda punctuates every phrase and question with an innuendo. At least she isn’t mad at him anymore after she caught him thinking of Pietro and bondage.

Pietro comes to visit him at last and alone. He is wearing a tank top and actual shorts, with shoes as silver as his hair. He flops down on the bed next to Clint like a child, doesn’t even bother to check if the movement will hurt him — it _does_ — and says, in that accent of his that makes Clint hope he never loses it: “You are very dumb.”

Clint grins. “Thanks, I feel so much better now, wow, you are _so good at this_.”

Pietro smirks. “I could have taken him.”

“Yeah, but I told you to stand down.” Clint says, and then remembers the blue blur before he passed out. “And you didn’t hear me.”

Pietro frowns. “That is not fair. You were down, because of him. He would have gotten away.”

“And now how many people know you exist?”

There is a moment of silence, before Pietro grunts: “I did not know I was a secret.”

Clint rolls his eyes and tries his best to move a little to have this conversation in a more appropriate position. When it doesn’t work and it hurts him, he stabs Pietro on his sides with his fingers for him to move to the chair. Be professional and all that if they are going to talk about that. When he does and they are both comfortable and able to look at each other, he says: “We’re not very popular at the moment and you guys don’t have the best track. We had to wait a little until you guys were controlling your powers to present you two to the rest of the world. Also, you guys need codenames. We don’t have that yet for you.”

Pietro just looks at him for a second and then says: “Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver.”

It’s time for Clint to frown. “What?”

“Our codenames.” Pietro says.

“Where did you get that from?”

“Fury assigned them to us the first time we met him.”

“What the _fuck_? Does everyone knows?” Clint asks and Pietro just shrugs, what means he has no idea. “Okay, new rule: I’m your handler. Whatever Nick Fury tells you, you tell me.”

Pietro arches his eyebrows, daring. Clint doesn’t really like that. The last time he did that, he asked what was Clint’s shooting range and then he ended up with an arrow in his leg. _By accident_. Steve never yelled at them so hard and for a moment they thought Steve Rogers had developed an ulcer. “Anything?” Pietro asks and Clint just— Clint just _dreads_.

“What did he tell you?”

“Something you told him.” He says, coyly and he’s fucking pretending because that is not Pietro at all, but it still works. Clint feels himself blush and the cute smile becomes a smirk only true sharks can do reproduce, like Tony or Nat. Pepper Potts and Loki. Clint is going to be eaten alive.

Pietro sits down again next to Clint, but this time they can look each other’s in the eyes. Pietro’s face is unreadable, blank, in ways that Clint has seen on enemies before they start killing people, on Nat’s face before she shoots, on Wanda when she is enraged. However, Pietro always wear his emotions on his face in ways his sister does not let herself ( _not yet_ ) and for the first time Clint sees in him what he sees in her. The power that he has in his hands ( _in his feet_ ), the danger he is to Clint and the fear he has of getting too close to the sun and have his wings melt down ( _his own eyes and Clint wonders if he was blind all this time by the light and did not see its danger, like Icarus and his love for Apollo_ ), the ability to control and to rip whoever gets in his way.

When Pietro leans down, when he leans _in_ , his face still devoid of emotions, Clint holds his breath and remembers Loki. _You have a heart_ , Loki said once. And Clint has it, still has it, but now he wonders, he _wonders_ , will he loses it again or has he already lost?

“You should not be worried about me.” Pietro says when their faces are close to each other. “Look where it got you.”

Clint exhales and closes his eyes. He laughs a little. “That’s funny, kid. Last time I checked, that should be my line.”

Pietro stops breathing for a moment and, shit, it took too long to get him right here, right now. He should have let the arrow go the moment his eyes saw Pietro again and captured his movements. The New York incident would not have happened. “It was my choice to save you. I don’t regret it.”

Clint opens his mouth to say he doesn’t regret New York either but. Yeah. “I can’t say this back to you, but I can tell you that I would take bullets for you too.”

“I walked it off. I do not think you would be able to do this.” Pietro reminds him and Clint wants to tell him that no, he didn’t. He didn’t walk it off. Wanda forced him back in ways Clint couldn’t, with her power and her rage, because she couldn’t let Pietro go. He understands why she did it; he feels the same now. And, yeah, Clint wouldn’t be able to come back from the dead, not a chance he would, but he missed once when Loki had control over him and he _never missed_. He may not be able to truly fight back against mental manipulation or death, but he doesn’t have to get along with them either.

“I missed a target when I was under Loki’s control. Guess we’ll have to see what happens if I ever meet Death.” He says and it is the right thing apparently, because Pietro fights back a smile and loses it. This close, it’s stunning. Clint never wants him to step away.

Pietro doesn’t either, because soon he closes their distance with a kiss. It’s a weird position, Pietro trying his best to not touch Clint who is still sore, and Clint wanting, but being unable to get up or move his arm much. Why did New York happen?

Clint kisses as much as he bites and licks. He likes movement, likes to take the other person by surprise, and likes to make them laugh. Pietro’s kiss is erratic, like he wants to kiss in all possible ways at once and can’t decide which one he likes it best. He also likes to vibrate his tongue and body just a little, enough to make Clint moan and want to throw him into the mattress and only stop when Pietro passes out.

The magic ends when Pietro accidentally touches his sensitive ribs and Clint bites his tongue by accident, hard enough to drawn blood. They both break the kiss at once and look at each other, before Pietro laughs quietly and Clint moans about how horrible they are at this.

.

The doctor sighs and takes off his glasses. He looks exhausted and pissed off. By his side, Helen Cho is clearly amused. “Mr. Barton, you need to rest for now. All the pain you are feeling is mostly soreness. It won’t stop just because your body is healed.”

Clint huffs and rolls his eyes. “That’s still not what I asked.”

“Fine.” The doctor says, almost barking. “You’ll be able to have sex in a week.”

“Or less.” Helen barges in the conversation. “Depends on how gentle your partner can be.”

Clint smirks. “One week it is, then.”

The doctor quits right on the spot. For some reason. It’s okay, Helen never liked him that much.

.

The air is too hot.

Everything is too hot, to be sincere. Pietro’s own temperature, already abnormal, seems ten thousand times worse because of the blush that is spreading through his body. It is oddly adorable, Clint thinks, but it’s even _hotter_. As hot as the high temperature of the room, as he watches mesmerized Pietro riding him, hands clutching the headboard of the bed, drops of sweat falling from his body to Clint’s.

Pietro has his eyes closed, concentrating on the movement of his hips as he thrusts and takes Clint more and more inside himself. It’s fast and erratic; the way Pietro is most of the time as he runs: making detours, unnecessary stops, never staying in one place for long. He told Clint, before they started — as he was rubbing his ass against his cock, Clint’s jeans becoming a cage to his erection — that Clint could not _move_. If he did, Pietro would stop and it would take longer for them to come. A game, he made it sound like, and Clint is now paying the price for finding that particular thing _fun_.

It’s not. He wants to meet Pietro’s thrusts with his own. Clint wants to give some order into that erratic movement, a direction, an objective. That says a lot about him, yeah, sure, and he may be a little boring, but it would be better than this Pietro, taking control and then finishing it all too fast. If he fucked like this before he got his powers, it’s no wonder why he became a speedster after being touched by Loki’s staff.

That’s another thing they have in common, Clint thinks. They were both touched by Loki in different ways. What he felt as Loki touched his heart with the scepter may have been what Pietro felt too. Huh. The weird conclusions you get while having sex.

Pietro’s thrust makes Clint’s cock hits his prostrate and Pietro makes a startled sound that is so _sweet_ Clint pushes all philosophy aside and brings both of his hands to his hips. They seem to fit there like they were made to touch Pietro like this. The contrast of his sun bathed fingers against one of Pietro’s parts that were covered often is a beautiful thing. It doesn’t take long for Clint to move his fingers up, to Pietro’s dark nipples.

And then Pietro loses his breath. It hitches, fucking hitches, as Clint touches his nipples and Clint— well, Clint kind of loses it. He groans at that and mumbles a ‘sorry’, before he sits, his face coming close to Pietro’s so fast that he even looks a little startled. Before Pietro can say anything, Clint slides down his hands and they grab his hips again. “Sorry.” He says, louder, and thrusts inside Pietro, slow and hard, in a way that hits his prostrate again. Not satisfied, Clint bends down and takes one of his nipples in his mouth and sucks. Pietro’s breath hitches again and soon his hands find Clint’s head, pressing it down as if signaling he wants Clint to continue his ministrations. Clint is both aroused and confused: he stopped their game, he threw it out of the window, but here is Pietro, tugging his head, urging him to keep on kissing his chest. It doesn’t take long to understand what Pietro wants and the moment Clint does, he does not even blink ( _though he is still confused_ ): he bites at one nipple.

The reaction is instantaneous: Pietro vibrates a little, the way he does when he blows something up, but in a different, softer intensity. Then, Pietro drags Clint heads up until their eyes meet again. He cradles his head, touches it everywhere as if he is trying to map it with rough, quick movements of his fingers, before he kisses Clint tenderly, tilting his head and letting Clint slip his tongue inside his mouth. Does not even fight back; only kisses and vibrates his tongue whenever Clint does something he likes it.

Clint is still thrusting into him, fucking him the way he should have from the very beginning. The movements are punishingly slow, hard enough to almost make them break the kiss. He urges Pietro to thrust back on the same speed; swallows his gasps.

“Keep with this movement.” He says to Pietro and thrusts slower until Pietro nods back. Eyes unfocused, swallowing hard, panting. What a picture.

Clint lets go of Pietro’s hips to focus on his legs. Oh, his _legs_. They are strong and soft, unmarred. One of the forty-seven bullets that hit Pietro that day also hit him there, but there is no scar, no evidence of the battle. Wanda must have brought his brother as she remembered him and not the way he was after Ultron ( _Clint saw the body; wishes he hadn’t_ ). Clint closes his eyes at the same time his hands close on those legs, spreading Pietro even more, before wrapping them on his own hips. The angle changes a little and Pietro actually screams his name, so that is a win, and after a few more thrusts, he comes on both of their stomachs.

Pietro pants one, two times before he opens his eyes again. They are intensive, more than they were before, and he looks obstinate to do something. Clint would be afraid, but he is guessing ( _kind of hoping, but one can never know with Pietro Maximoff_ ) that Pietro wants him to come. Really, he does not need to do much, but if he Pietro wants to do something more, something memorable, well, he’s not going to complain.

Pietro kisses Clint again, hard, before he moves his mouth to his ear. The one where Clint normally puts the comm. Clint loses his breath, knowing that it could not have been a coincidence. Pietro has watched Clint as much as Clint has watched him. Then, he starts to moan, breathy little moans that soon turn on words in Sokovian as if he was too far gone to remember their equivalents in English. Clint knows Pietro isn’t, that Pietro can still form coherent thoughts in both or more languages, but, well, next time he will try extra hard to take the English out of Pietro.

Clint never thought he would think of something like that. The world does turn.

Anyway, it works. Clint grunts and then loses control of his thrusts as he understands one particular word that is said in Russian. _Russian_ Russian. Nat’s Russian. He does not think; he just obeys and bites down on Pietro’s shoulder — Pietro, who gasps and answers by clawing Clint’s back, from clavicle to the small of his back. After that, it is not a surprise if he just comes inside Pietro, inside the condom.

They stay a moment like this before Clint falls back on the mattress, breathing hard. _Shit, I’m too old for this_ , it’s his first thought. And then he thinks again: _Fuck, I hope I’m not too old for this._

Pietro moves, without flinching, and gets off of Clint’s dick, but not bothers with taking the condom out. Or stops straddling Clint’s hips. In fact, Pietro doesn’t do much besides look at Clint with an odd expression.

He has this smirk on his face — the soft smirk, that means he is fond, proud of something. Satisfied. Impressed. Clint has no idea what that means, not for a moment too long, before it finally clicks in place. “You did that on purpose.” Clint says, looking at the debauched and smiling reaction of Pietro as the smirk leaves his face. “Your game. You were doing that on purpose.”

“It took you forever to snap.” Pietro admits, murmuring something in Sokovian Clint does not catch. He seriously needs to learn the language. “I was almost giving up.”

“You wanted me to take control.” Clint frowns at Pietro, not understanding what is happening.

“Well” Pietro starts and shrugs. He has this smirk on his face that matches the one he had when they met for the first time. That smirk that says he did something wicked and is proud of it — and how many expression did he have already? This kid has got to slow down for goof. “I wanted you to flip me over and take me as hard as you could.” Clint swallows and feels his dick coming back to life. “But you did a good job, though. Next time, you’ll do better.”

“ _Better_?” Clint chokes. “That was a fucking _test_?”

The smirk only grows. “I have faith on you, Clint Barton.”

Clint’s mouth twists. Pietro is still sitting on his hips, Clint’s hands still on his legs. Pietro is looking at him assertively, waiting for his next reaction. No wonder Wanda and he thought they could defeat the Avengers. He has come dripping from his abdomen and pubic hair, he is sweating and even a little out of breath. Still, he looks like he could take on Clint anytime and that whatever Clint has is not enough to defeat him. He looks like he has the whole world at his disposal and that nothing will ever surprise him ( _minus Thor’s hammer, but Pietro has already learned the lesson_ ).

“Oh, I’m going to flip you alright.” Clint says, finally finding his voice. “And then I’m gonna _choke_ you.”

Pietro does not even blink, he only comes closer, as if he is leaning in for a kiss. “Well, we’ll need a safeword, then. What do you think of _quiver_?”

Clint closes his eyes and swears. This kid. This fucking kid.

.

If the Maximoffs ever turn on the Avengers again, they are all so fucked. Also, good luck to Vision or whatever other man or creature Wanda decides to date. She will _tear_ them apart.

.

Clint looks sideways at Pietro, who is sitting at the edge of the rooftop, dangling his legs like a kid. _Always moving_ , Clint thinks, amused. “What are you doing here, Quicksilver?” He asks, eyes turning back at the target: an apple on a small bucket, near the woods that surround the new facility. All eyes are on him and some of the Avengers are screaming on his comm and trying to mess with his concentration.

It’s a stupid thing, really. Pretty much like that time with Thor, they were all teasing Clint if he really _can’t_ miss a target. Like Thor and his hammer, Clint bragged that it would be impossible. Rhodey, Wanda and Vision bet that Clint would eventually miss. Nat, Steve, Sam and Stark ( _invited so kindly by Rhodey to participate on the bet and get some real money on it_ ) told them it would be impossible, even after the Vision presented the statistics that no one _doesn’t_ miss. Everyone is flawed, Wanda said. Yeah, remember New York, Rhodey said.

Pietro didn’t bet, for obvious reasons, but he couldn’t stop snorting at the discussion.

So here Clint is, inhaling deeply at the top of the building, considering the wind and the angle, to shoot an apple and win money from three of his teammates. Pietro shouldn’t be here.

“Did your sister send you here?” Clint asks.

“What? No!” He says, in that tone that means that, yes, she did. After barely a second for Clint, Pietro admits. “I’m just trying to see if I can be a problem for you. For science.”

“ _Science_.” Clint muses the word, savors it, trying to mimic Pietro’s accent. “Pretty strong word.”

“We need to know if I am a distraction to you or not, Barton.”

Clint snorts. “And what if you are?”

“Well, I am sure the Avengers cannot have a sharp shooter that misses. Do not worry, though, we will not miss you. We all will know you are at your farm, with your sister.” Pietro teases. Teases, teases, teases. “You would look good shirtless and cutting wood for the fire.” There is an edge on his voice that says Pietro would like to see that very much and Clint tries not to blush.

“Well, someone is oversharing.” Clint answers and Pietro ducks his head to the other side to hide the blush. “Well, if we are talking about _that_ … I think if I am the farmer, you’d have to be the farmer’s wife, don’t you?” Pietro snorts, but before he can say anything, Clint continues: “You’d look good in a dress. Hm, _stocking_.”

“Oh my God.” Nat screams in their ears. “We can _hear_ you. Stop with this gross and sexist flirt and _shoot_ , Clint. Time is _money_.”

Pietro jumps a little at Nat’s sudden comment and Clint for a moment thinks he will lose his balance and fall. Pietro, however, only smirks at him and winks. Shit, he is really trying to make Clint lose this. “I thought you _liked_ me.”

“I do. But my sister asked for assistance.”

“A family man. I like that.” Clint says and turns back at his target. Finds the wind again, fluttering the grass, the top of trees, even his hair. It clashes against his fingers, trying to move them too and it does not take Clint much longer to find the best angle to use the wind in his favor.

Before he shoots, however, he says to Pietro: “You do know that I am capable of having restraint when I’m around you, right?”

Pietro doesn’t answer and Clint figures he is blushing. He is doing a lot of that, lately. Clint does not look at him to confirm it; he just breathes in and out and counts _one two three_ to release the arrow.

As his fingers are one by one leaving the nock, he feels Pietro moving, nearing him, and feels his breath warming his neck. Clint closes his eyes to hold on to this feeling, but still keeps his bow and arrow in the same angle it was before. Nothing will ever make him miss if he survived aliens flying and gathering around him. He isn’t ready, however, at what Pietro does next. Better yet, at what he _says_ next: “Oh, but who said I want you to show restraint? I most certainly do not want that at all.”

Clint opens his eyes, startled, and lets the arrow go. He doesn’t know if it is the right angle or not, he doesn’t know if what he hears in his ear are cheers or catcalling. He just let the arrow go and before it crosses the field, he is already curling one of his hands on Pietro’s neck and pulling him into a searing kiss.

_This kid_. This fucking kid.

.

Clint hits the target. Obviously.

**Author's Note:**

> It was supposed to be simple: Clint falls, he stays on bed, Pietro gives him a blowjob. And then it turned into Clint describing everything like a poet (when I want to do that on purpose, I fail miserably) and then feelings! Nick Fury became a great idea.
> 
> It was kind of ready three days ago, but it still needed the porn. Because, you know, it was the reason why I wrote this. I am horrible at writing sex scenes, but I felt like I needed to write it for you guys since _I'll be your number one with a bullet_ ended when things were getting interesting. It took me two hours to finish this, but I'm kind of proud. Practice makes perfect and all that ;D (the amount of sex scenes and PWP I read this week totally helped)
> 
> Hope you guys liked it :)
> 
> Happy Mother's Day!


End file.
